6: The Disappearing Shack
by OracleBones
Summary: We weren't even on a case. We just stopped at the dusty old motel for the night. Maybe I'm cursed? I seem to find trouble, even where it shouldn't exist. Whatever...here's hoping I don't die of heat stroke in this stupid desert.
1. Chapter 1

**Searchlight, Nevada.**

* * *

The Impala bumped to a stop and I jolted awake in the backseat, squinting against the glare of sun that somehow managed to catch me right in the corneas. Sighing out a quiet curse, I gripped the back of the seat and pulled myself upright, rubbing the pain from my eyes.

"Rise and shine, sleepin' beauty." Dean barked, chuckling at the look on my face. I'd been sleeping a lot lately, and he found it endlessly amusing. I'd probably heard every single quip and pun related to anyone who was ever comatose, ever, in all of cinema history.

"No. I think I'd rather go back to sleep." I grumbled, scowling at him from one eye. He grinned at me, and next to him Sam let out a short laugh.

"What? And miss all the fun?" Dean went on, nudging me. As he climbed out of the car, Sam glanced over his shoulder at me.

"How are you feeling, Ace?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. He'd been using that tone on me for days now, ever since I'd woken in the panic room groggy and confused. I was still recovering from the Nightmare, even though it had been nearly a month.

I had only vague memories of that week, but the experience was still fresh in their minds. And I could tell it scared them. Dean elected to pretend it never happened, but Sam...he was different. Almost...curious. Like he felt left out somehow, or like he'd missed some important piece of puzzle that made the picture indecipherable.

Whenever he could catch me alone he'd ask me about it. But I had nothing to offer him. All I could remember were hazy images, and a sense of dread. Trying to think about it made my skin crawl, and my stomach turn over. Whatever the creature had dredged up, it had been bad.

I sighed, blinking hard to clear the after-images from my eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, Sam. A bit tired still, but...I'll live." I said, sliding my feet off the seat and shifting toward the door. He nodded slowly, thinking, and I paused.

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He looked back at me, innocently, and made a 'hmm?' sound.

"Don't 'hmm' me, I know that look. What are you scheming in that giant brain of yours?" I retorted with a smirk, pitching my voice low so Dean didn't stick his nose in. Sam hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. He let out a short huff of air and opened his door.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Really." he said quietly, and climbed out, stretching. I frowned, watching him as he closed the door and crossed the sidewalk to the motel office. He was definitely hiding something. And I had an uncomfortable suspicion it had a lot to do with me.

"Hey! You comin' or what?" Dean shouted, pulling my attention his way. He stood near an open door, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. With a nod, and a bolstering breath, I climbed out of the car, stretched, and trotted over to his side. As I neared, he tossed my pack to me, catching me in the stomach and nearly driving the air out of my lungs.

"Oops. You okay?" he said, laughing as he gripped my shoulder. I gave him a thumbs up and nodded jerkily, even though it felt like one of my guns had hit me square in the solar plexis.

"Yup. I'm great." I spat, voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave me an apologetic look and patted my back.

"C'mon. Let's get inside and unpack. I'm freakin' starving." he said, leading the way into the room. I glanced over my shoulder for Sam, and saw him bent over the trunk, digging. He caught me staring and waved me to go on without him. I smirked and tossed a hand up, walking inside.

And immediately regretted it.

"Oh! What is that smell?!" I gasped, pulling the front of my shirt up over my nose. Dean stood near the foot of the bed nearest the door, his nose buried against his shirt sleeve. He glanced at me and shook his head frantically.

"I don't know, but...ough! I think I'm gonna be sick!" he replied, half-coughing, half-chuckling. I started to laugh, and then gagged, backing toward the door.

"Dean, we _cannot_ stay here!" I choked out, and stopped abruptly as I backed into Sam. He let out a cry of surprise and disgust.

"What _is_ that?!" he yelped, and turned away. I bolted from the room, stumbling out into the parking lot and gagging again. Dean staggered out to join us, and one of them slammed the door.

"Seriously, what the hell _was_ that?" I called, bending forward and bracing my hands on my thighs as I panted. Dean let out a laugh, and Sam groaned like he was about to puke.

"I don't know, but you should have seen your _face!"_ Dean hooted, and I shook my head, chuckling. Then I stood, and looked over at them.

"I'm gonna go talk to the manager. See if they can give us a new room." I said, giving Sam a cursory glance. His face was pale and greenish, and as I watched, he jerked forward on a gag. I grimaced in sympathy. Of the three of us, he had the weakest stomach.

"I'll be right back." I added, tossing my pack back over to Dean and starting toward the office. I heard him say something to Sam, but his voice was pitched too low for me to hear, and I missed it. For a moment, I wondered if this was his doing, a prank or something. But I shook my head, laughing at myself. He could be a pain sometimes, but I doubted he was comfortable enough to start pulling pranks on me again. I knew he'd been extra careful around me ever since the Nightmare. He almost never let me out of his sight. And if there was something even slightly dangerous to be done, he was always quick to volunteer. It was getting annoying, but in a way it was also a relief. At least I could always count on him to have my back.

The chime of a bell broke me from my thoughts, and I looked up. An elderly man was holding the office door open for me, and I threw him a small smile, speeding up to relieve him.

"Thanks." I said cheerily, and he gave me a nod, moving off down the sidewalk. As I entered the office, I glanced around, taking it in. There wasn't much to look at. A few chairs against the wall, a magazine rack, a dog.

I frowned, watching as the scruffy mutt raised it's head and shook it's ears. It gave me a disinterested glance before going back to it's nap, and I snorted.

"Yeah, you're no vision yourself there, Fido." I muttered under my breath, crossing the stained linoleum to the counter. It was empty, and my frown deepened.

That old guy was just in here. What, did the bellboy run away?

There was a door just behind the counter, it probably led off into a private office, maybe they'd gone in there.

Letting out a sigh, I rang the bell a few times and leaned on the counter, watching the security camera in the corner. There was no usual blinking red light, and I wondered if it even worked for a moment. The dog let out a grating cough, and I tore my gaze away from the broken surveilance equipment so I could watch the animal. He stretched, stood, trotted over to my leg, and sniffed me for a few seconds. Then he grabbed my pant-leg in his mouth and gave a gentle pull, growling softly. I eyed him, eyebrow raising.

"Dog. What are you doing?" I demanded, reaching down to grab him by the scruff. He looked up at me before I reached him, and growled a little louder. Then he gave a sharp yank on my leg, nearly pulling my foot from under me. I yelped, and jerked away from him.

"Dog! Let go!" I snapped, but he held on tightly, pulling full force now. I stumbled, one foot held firmly aloft by the animal, and cursed his lineage while I clung to the counter to keep from falling. There was a loud thud from the back of the office, and I heard boot heels approaching me quickly, thumping loudly against the linoleum.

"Hello?" I called, shaking my leg again. The dog still refused to budge.

"Hey, your dog's gettin' a little too friendly in here!" I added, and heard them stop. There was silence for a moment, and then someone called out to me.

"He doesn't like strangers." they said, and I stared at the door, my face slowly pulling up into a confused frown. What? What the hell was he out _here_ for then?

"Okay...um, anyway. Our room smells terrible. I think something might have died in it. Is there any way we can get a different one?" I said, trying to normalize the conversation a bit. This whole situation was starting to make me really uncomfortable. And this dog was seriously getting on my nerves.

"Sorry, we don't do that here." the voice called, and I heard them start to walk away. I scoffed, giving my leg one last shake, and finally breaking free of the dog. Casting him a scowl, I jumped the counter and yanked the door open. It swung outward, squealing loudly.

"Wait!" I called, and broke off, staring. I was expecting an office, or a small apartment maybe. But the only thing I could see was the beginning of a staircase that descended into darkness.

My voice died in my throat, and I took a step back, eyes widening. Something was wrong here, and not just the obvious. A gust of stale air wafted up to me, and I caught a hint of the smell from the motel room. Like a rotting animal carcasse, left in the sun for too long. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and started to step back again. My calf bumped into a furry body, and I glanced down.

The dog gazed back up at me, panting. His tail waved slowly back and forth.

"What?" I demanded, half expecting him to talk back. Instead he snorted, and started down the stairs. Stopping after a few and looking back at me expectantly. I grit my teeth, glancing over my shoulder toward the front door. My gut was telling me to go back, to get Sam and Dean. Everything in me was screaming, "Red Flag! Turn Back! Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!" But as I looked at the dog, a tiny voice somewhere at the back of my mind whispered, "Go." and I couldn't resist.

Admittedly, not my greatest moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean let out a sigh, shading his eyes as he watched the motel office. Ace had been in there about five minutes already, and he was starting to worry. How long could a room re-assignment take? He let his arm drop to his side, and nudged Sam. His brother glanced over at him, closing the book he'd been reading.

"How long's she been in there?" he asked, looking down. Sam checked his watch and frowned.

"Bout...six and a half minutes. Why?" he replied. Dean chewed his lip a moment, fiddling with a pebble. He shook his head and tossed it across the parking lot.

"I dunno, Sammy. Just...somethin' doesn't feel right." he mused, and Sam gazed past him, studying the windows of the office for a moment. Then he pushed himself to his feet, and dusted his jeans off.

"C'mon. I'm worried too." he said, and pulled Dean to his feet, smirking at him.

Dean returned the gesture, leading the way down the sidewalk. Sure, he could chalk it up to recent events making him a little _more_ protective than usual. But really, he knew something about this place wasn't right. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

The bell chimed loudly as they entered the office, and he glanced around. The counter was empty, and behind it, the room's only other door was closed. His gaze lingered on the security camera in the corner just long enough to realize it was broken, and then he moved on. Dusty magazines sat on a rack near a bank of grungy chairs, and across from that sat an old dog bed. Dean crossed to the counter and rang the bell, while Sam wandered around the room, investigating. There was a thud from the other side of the door, and someone approached. Dean pulled himself up a little straighter and plastered on a fake smile as the door swung inward, and an older man peered out at him.

"Yeah? Whaddya want?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Dean. For a moment he wasn't sure how to react. The man was at least fifty, with small eyes and a weight problem. His jowls shook when he spoke, and with his eyes narrowed at him like that, he _very_ closely resembled a pig. It was enough to make him want to laugh.  
But he didn't, because it suddenly dawned on him that he could see a small kitchen behind the man. Which meant that, of the two doors leading out of this room, only one of them could possibly lead outside. And he'd been watching it the entire time. Ace hadn't come out of it, and she obviously wasn't here. He doubted that this old man could overpower her, but with as exhausted as she'd been lately, the possibility did exist.

His expression darkened at the thought, and he leaned toward the man.

"Did you see a girl come in here?" he demanded, watching the man closely. He hesitated a moment while he thought, and then shook his head.

"Ain't seen no one since that older man came in here. Why?" he replied. Dean clenched his jaw, turning to look at Sam a moment. The two exchanged a silent conversation, before he turned back.

"You're sure? She wasn't in here?" he asked, and the man sighed.

"I been in my chair watchin' the television this whole time. I didn't see or hear anybody." he explained, glancing between the two of them.

"Of course you were." Dean grumbled, turning away from the counter. Sam forced himself to smile apologetically at the man.

"Sorry for bothering you. Thank you for your time." he said quickly, nodding at the man before he turned to follow his brother. Dean stalked to the door and wrenched it open, pausing to look around the parking lot for a moment. Sam glanced back as the man closed his door and retreated back into his apartment. When he was sure they wouldn't be overheard, he turned back to Dean.

"There's no where else she could be." Dean said suddenly, letting the door close and turning back to survey the office.

"Yeah, but there's no where _in here_ that she could be." Sam retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the door behind the counter. Dean nodded slowly, chewing on his lip while he thought. Sam tilted his head, frowning, and crossed the room to lean on the counter. His eyes traveled the length of the door, then traced the frame. He tilted his head the other way, and leaned to the left, examining it from every angle.

"What's up?" Dean asked, walking over to him. Sam glanced at him, standing up straight, and shook his head.

"I'm not sure. But...does this door look... _different_...to you?" he replied, gesturing toward it with his hand. Dean stared for a moment, taking in every detail about the door. It suddenly struck him that he could see hinges on the left edge. But when it had opened earlier it had swung inward.

"What the...?" he murmured, trailing off as he rounded the counter and looked closer. Sam followed, and the two of them crowded in for a closer look. After a short deliberation, Dean grabbed the handle and gently gave it a turn. The door gave inward slightly, but when he began to pull, it swung back toward them violently. They both stumbled backward, and had to cover their noses against a wave of that same nauseating smell that had driven them from their motel room in the first place.

"That...is somethin' you just don't get used to." Dean commented, chuckling dryly. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, and leaned in to get a better look at what they were dealing with. A dusty, old staircase lead down into a dark passage. He didn't see any light-switches along the walls, but he could barely make out a familiar set of boot prints in the dust that coated the top few steps. He nudged his brother and pointed them out.

"She went down there." he said quietly, and Dean cursed under his breath.

"No _way_ she went willingly." he said, a quiet anger filling his voice. Sam watched him a moment, wondering how he could be so sure.

"Wait here, I'll go grab our stuff." Dean said suddenly, patting him on the shoulder as he turned away from the door.

"Right." Sam replied automatically, staring down into the dark below him. He couldn't help but feel like there was some new closeness between Ace and Dean. It was like, going into her dreams had revealed some kind of secret to his brother, and it had changed him. He couldn't decide how he felt about it.

The door chimed again, and he looked up as Dean entered the room, toting a full duffel bag.

"Here." he barked, tossing a flashlight over the counter to him. Sam caught it easily, clicking it on and shining it down into the darkness. It didn't seem to do much.

"Ready?" he asked, as Dean reached his side. His brother held out a shotgun to him, smirking.

"Let's do this." he replied, chambering a shell in his own gun. Sam followed suite, and started down the stairs.

"We're coming, Ace." he murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, dog. I don't _usually_ follow strange animals into potentially life threatening passageways in the middle of nowhere. Not even in the middle of the day." I commented, ducking under yet _another_ draping cobweb. There were millions of them down here, coating the walls and ceiling, and sometimes even the floor. It was gross. And annoying.

I held my phone a little higher, the lit screen my only source of light in the cramped tunnel. Ahead of me, the dog let out another cough, and I wrinkled my nose at him. I was beginning to think that was his way of laughing at me.

He made that sound every time I spoke to him, regardless of what I said. I could call him a guiltless, yellow-bellied, badger, and he'd probably just reply with that raspy coughing sound.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I turned my phone toward myself, checking for reception again. I'd checked a few times already, but the most luck I'd had was half a bar for about ten seconds. And that was nearly a half hour ago.

"Where the hell are we, anyway?" I said, turning the light ahead of me again. The dog coughed at me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Right." I muttered, shaking my head. I didn't know what I'd been expecting when I'd followed him down here. A monster maybe, or some kind of den of ghouls. But an endless, dusty tunnel that led who knows where, and was apparently home to every spider in existence? Not exactly at the top of the list.

"Next time, I'm sending Sam." I grumbled, and had to pause a moment to rub a cramp from the back of my leg. It had been a while since I'd walked this far, and it was taking it's toll. My feet ached, and my legs had a rubbery feel to them, like they'd fold underneath me if I wasn't careful. This tunnel had to be a mile long, at least, and I couldn't help but wonder who built the thing. And why.

Something scuffled off to the left of me, and I spun toward the sound, instinctively reaching for my belt. Then I cursed, because my gun was in my bag, and my bag was with Dean. And neither of them were _here, with me,_ like they _should be,_ because I was an idiot who followed strange animals into potentially life threatening passages in the middle of nowhere. At this point, I pretty much _deserved_ whatever happened to me.

Narrowing my eyes, I started forward cautiously. The sound continued, and as I drew closer, something loomed out of the darkness. I could barely make out the shape of it, but it made me stop in my tracks. The hair along my arms stood on end, and the breath froze in my chest. It was vaguely humanoid, but it's arms were too long. It crouched low, with it's back hunched, and seemed to be digging at the floor, looking for something.

My heart pounded in my chest as it turned toward me, and I forced myself to back away slowly, when everything in me wanted to bolt. I realized it had no eyes, so it couldn't see my light. But that just meant it could probably already smell me, or hear me. I grit my teeth, silently reprimanding myself for all of my bad choices today. This was a bad time to be weaponless.

A low growl filled the air, and I froze. The creature pulled back, turning it's head to the side as it listened. Something big was running up the passage behind me. I braced myself, waiting for whatever it was to pounce. But it blew right past me, heading for the creature instead. Eyes wide, I watched as it turned and disappeared into the dark, screeching in terror. The newcomer turned toward me, and I realized it was Dog. But bigger. _Much_ bigger. He gazed at me disapprovingly, his head now at shoulder height, and I let myself fall back against the wall behind me.

"Did I fall down a rabbit hole and not notice?" I mumbled, rubbing my hand down my face. Dog turned and nudged my leg, letting out his usual raspy cough, and I sighed. Then I climbed to my feet, and we started walking again. I could still hear the creature screeching off in the distance, and I wondered for a moment if there would be more of them. The answer to that question soon presented itself, though, as we came to the end of the tunnel. A large metal door materialized out of the darkness, and Dog stopped a few feet away from it, sitting down with a huff. He looked back at me, panting, and his tail waved from side to side for a moment. I hesitated, glancing at the door and then back to him. He let out a grumbling whine, and shook his ears before climbing to his feet again. Then he nudged me toward the door.

"Woah! Okay, I get it. Jeez." I snapped, stumbling a few steps and scowling at him over my shoulder. He coughed at me, his tail waving a bit faster, and I sighed. Then I faced the door again. Admittedly, part of me was curious. After all, there was a magic dog, and some kind of skulking creature, maybe this door lead to some kind of magic bunker or something. Then again, knowing my luck, it was the complete opposite, and I was about to die. Either way, I had to open the door to find out. I tossed one last glance over my shoulder, and realized that Dog had wandered off while I was distracted.

"Figures." I muttered, turning back to the door with a sigh. So much for 'goodbye', or even a 'thanks for saving my ass back there'.

"Here goes nothing." I commented, reaching out and grasping the large, metal handle. It turned with a loud creak and the door swung toward me, groaning. Cold air poured into the tunnel, and a bluish light made me squint. The door bumped against the wall, and I staggered forward, half-blind.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a large room on the other side, lit by a chandelier that resembled icicles hanging in layered circles. The source of the light didn't seem to be an electric bulb. Instead, it looked like some kind of tiny blue fire, that didn't burn, and hovered in the center of the chandelier without supports. I gazed at it for nearly a full minute, mesmerized, before the door began to close on it's own and I had to stumble inside to keep it from catching me by the leg.

Finally, I took in the room itself. There were eight walls, which, for some reason, was the strangest thing to me. The floor was a plush carpet, and deep blue, or maybe black, it was hard to tell with the light. Bookshelves lined the walls, piled almost to breaking with leather-bound tomes, most in languages I couldn't recognize. Near the center of the room a claw footed desk sat beneath piles of scrolls and parchment. There was even a feather and ink-well. A fireplace adorned one wall, complete with a painting of a scowling elderly man rising high above the mantle. More of the blue flames flickered in the fireplace, burning low, and putting out cold instead of heat. A high-backed, wing chair sat in front of the fireplace, facing it, and I eyed it suspiciously. I felt like I'd walked into a Bond movie, and this was the villains lair. Any minute now that chair was going to swing around, and some bald guy with a cat in his lap was going to tell me what a coincidence it was to see me. And then the floor would drop open, and a pit of sharks would devour me.

I shook my head. I needed to stop watching movies with Dean.

Shivering against the cold, I crept around the desk, watching the chair for movement. There were a few papers scattered around the desktop, and I looked them over, careful not to make noise. None of it made any sense, they were all written in some strange pictographs I'd never seen before. I fought the urge to sigh, and glanced around again. There were no windows, and no other doors. The room was completely isolated.

What the hell had Dog led me here for? And why had I been stupid enough to let him?

"Find what you're looking for?"

I jumped, gasping at the sudden rasping voice that filled the room. There was a rustling sound, and a figure rose from the chair. A tall, thin man turned to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. He wore a black suit, custom tailored to fit him properly, and a greying beard reached his belt. The hair atop his head was combed back from his face, and neatly trimmed. As he peered at me from behind a pair of small spectacles, I was reminded of a wizard from some book Sam talked about reading in school once.

I swallowed hard, taking a step back and eyeing the door, apprehensive. If he did turn out to be some kind of magic user, I needed to be ready to bolt. But my knees were still rubbery from the trudge down here, and I didn't trust them. He sighed harshly, and let his arms drop to his sides, starting toward me.

"You know, it's a bit rude to rifle through someone's things when you haven't even introduced yourself yet." he went on, pausing momentarily to look me over from across the desk. His eyebrows rose, and he seemed to realize something.

"Oh. My dear girl, do you have any idea where you are?" he said suddenly, his tone slightly softer than it was at first. I shook my head slowly, and glanced at the door again. Then I cleared my throat.

"The um...the dog...brought me here." I explained, hesitating as it dawned on me just how insane that sounded. I half expected him to laugh at me, but instead he just nodded slowly. Then he turned away, wandering over to a bookshelf and pulling a tome from the shelf. There was a soft clink, and the shelf slid into the wall, and then disappeared to the right, revealing another, larger room on the other side. He looked back at me and gestured for me to follow.

"Welcome to my home, then." he said, smiling at me as he disappeared into the next room. I hesitated, looking back at the door and wondering for a moment if I could make it back to the motel without running into that skulker.

"I wouldn't chance it." the old man called, and leaned back in to hold up a steaming mug.

"Tea?" he asked, offering the drink to me. I sighed and nodded, following after him.

"Only if I pour it myself, though. If you don't mind." I replied, walking into what appeared to be a kitchen area. A small dining table sat in the corner with a handful of battered, old chairs around it. And a cluttered counter stretched along the wall, spilling dishes into a large sink. There was an island between the doorway and the counter, with a gas range built into it. The old man handed me an empty mug and a plastic wrapped tea bag before ambling over to the table and sitting down. I stared after him for a moment, then turned my gaze to the copper kettle on the stove.

"So. You say that dog led you down here, eh?" he said suddenly, making me jump. I nodded as I set about getting my tea put together, and he made a thoughtful sound, sipping from his mug.

"Well, that's certainly interesting." he murmured to himself, and I frowned at the back of his head.

"What is?" I asked, pouring water over the tea bag and setting the kettle back on the stove top. The old man scratched his chin for a moment, and stared at me long and hard. Then he took another sip of tea, clearing his throat.

"That dog isn't real." he said simply. I froze, staring at him.

"What do you mean, 'not real'?" I demanded. He waved his hand at me, and turned in his chair.

"It's a construct. I just slapped him together out of some free-floating magic one day. Thought I could use the company, but it turns out he doesn't even like me. Won't come anywhere near me anymore. Probably thinks I want to dismantle him. Poor thing. What's interesting, is that he decided to lead you right up to my door. That's the closest he's come to me in years. Must think there's something special about you." he explained, taking periodic sips of tea. I frowned, steeping the tea bag in my mug, and the old man let out a quiet chuckle.

"Although, looking at you, you seem very ordinary to me." he said, earning a scowl from me.

"I don't know the meaning of the word." I muttered, and swigged my tea, leaning against the counter. The old man watched me for a moment, amusement in his eyes, and I sighed.

"So...are you some kind of witch?" I finally asked, and he laughed out loud, shaking his head.

"Oh, by no means! I've never laid a curse in my long life. No dear, I'm a Magus. An inventor, of sorts. We access free magic, and shape it. Why, take this, my home. I built this myself, out of free magic. I can bend the very fabric of reality to my will. Tell me, could a witch do that?" he replied, gesturing to the room emphatically, and then winking at me. I raised my eyebrows, impressed.

"Not that I'm aware, no." I said, taking another sip of tea. I wasn't usually a fan, but this was actually pretty tasty. The old man smiled widely, and stood suddenly.

"You speak as if you know a lot about witches. You wouldn't happen to _be_ one, my dear girl, would you?" he asked, walking toward me slowly. I paused a moment. There was the other shoe, dropping on me as suddenly as always. With a slow sigh, I gently placed the mug on the counter top in front of me, and stood upright.

"I'm not a witch." I said, looking up at him and watching his expression carefully. If I sensed even the slightest shift toward hostility, I was bolting for the door. I'd rather take my chances with the skulk, than with magic.

"I hunt witches." I went on, tensing, waiting. There was a long pause of silence, and then he broke into laughter, clapping slowly. I narrowed my eyes at him, confused.

"Why is that funny?" I demanded, watching him wander back over to his chair and sit, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. He looked back at me over his shoulder, still chuckling.

"No _real_ reason, but it does explain the two shotgun toting idiots running circles in my tunnels." he replied, waving his hand at the wall. It shimmered for a second, and then cleared into a video screen. I frowned at it, trying to make out anything in the gloom. And then heard Dean cursing, and a flashlight clicking to life. Suddenly I could make out both of their faces, squinting against the sudden light. They were dirty, and sweaty, and both of them looked exhausted. I felt anger welling up in me at the sight of them, and glared at the old man. He was watching them with a smile on his face, very obviously entertained by their suffering.

"Where are they?" I demanded, stalking across the room and stopping short just behind him. He didn't turn, but he stiffened in his chair. And I felt the hair along my arms stand on end.

"You should watch your tone. And count yourself lucky they're still alive. I don't usually treat trespasser's lightly." he retorted, his voice low. I backpedaled, staggering a few steps away from him, and he stood to face me. Tucking his hands behind his back, he leaned toward me, studying me.

"Now, my dear girl, explain to me what three hunters would possibly be doing in my home, and I might just let you go." he growled, and the air around me cracked loudly, lashing against my skin like electricity. I flinched with a quiet yelp, and grit my teeth. _This_ is why you're _not_ supposed to go into strange basements. Because _fake_ dogs will lead you down into _dark_ tunnels, filled with only the _gods_ know what, and magic wielding _psychopaths_ will hold your brothers _hostage,_ and most likely _kill_ you.

I blew a harsh sigh out my nose, and closed my eyes for a moment.

"At this point, I have no idea." I replied, and felt the air lash my skin again.

 _"Truth_ , child, or _else."_ he snarled, and my eyes snapped open.

"That _is_ the truth, alright? I followed the dog, he brought me here, I met you. I don't know _why_ I did, it just...seemed like a good idea at the time. Although, _now_ I'm realizing just how much of a really _terrible_ idea it was, but hey, hindsight's twenty twenty and all that, right? As for those two, they're my brothers. And seeing as I've been gone for about _three freaking hours_ now, they probably came down here looking for me. Because _that's_ what happens when you nearly _die!_ Your family gets _overprotective,_ and _constantly_ worries about you!" I broke off, panting, and glared at the old man, waiting for his response. He stared back at me, eyes wide. Then he started to laugh, but this time it wasn't mocking, it was simply him laughing at the pure idiocy of it all. And after a moment, I joined him. I'd never been more freaked out, angry, and amazed all at once before.

"Oh, you poor girl. I'm so _sorry_. I'm so used to being hunted, I forgot what it was like to have _guests."_ he said suddenly, and my laugh cut short. I stared at him, my eyes wide.

"Wow, _seriously?"_ I said, and he nodded, turning away. He waved his hand at the video screen, and there was a grating sound as part of the wall opened and sunlight poured in. I watched my brothers climb out of the tunnel, confused and tired. The opening sealed shut behind them, and the old man turned back to me.

"I think it's time we got you back as well." he said, walking over to my side and placing a hand on my shoulder. I held out a hand to stop him, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Wait. Before I go, there was a weird smell in the motel. Like, a dead animal." I said, and he frowned. Then he gasped, his free hand flying up to cover his mouth.

"Oh my...the flame must have gone out in the meat locker. I had a years supply of beef in there." he sighed wistfully, and shook his head.

"Just one more thing to do today." he added, his voice slightly annoyed. Then he waved a hand toward the wall again, and I watched as the wood bulged outward to form a door. It swung open, and sunlight poured into the kitchen.

"Here you are, my dear." he said cheerfully, gesturing toward the door with a sweep of his hand. I hesitated for a moment, there were still some things I was curious about, but he gave me a shove that sent me stumbling forward. I tripped through the open doorway and it slammed shut behind me as I toppled to my hands and knees on a patch of loose gravel. I felt rocks break my skin and sighed harshly, spitting curses as I climbed to my feet. My palms oozed blood, and I could feel my knees stinging with cuts.

"Thanks a lot, _gramps."_ I muttered, and looked around. I was on a back country road that seemed to go on for miles in both directions. The sun was still high in the sky, and the breeze was stagnant. I had no idea where I was. But, luck was finally with me as I dug my cellphone out of my pocket. The battery still had a full charge, and I had full bars for the first time in hours. I searched through my contacts list until I found Dean's number and hit send. It only rang once before he picked up, and he sounded so frantic that I almost wanted to laugh.

"What the _hell_ happened to you?" he demanded, and in the back ground I could hear Sam asking if I was okay. I shook my head, chuckling dryly.

"It's a long story. Where are you guys?" I replied, examining the damage to my free hand. I wouldn't need stitches, but it was going to hurt for a while.

"We're not really sure, actually. I mean, we're where the motel _should_ be, but...no motel." he said, the confusion clear in his voice. I nodded slowly. That made sense. Why would he want to stick around if a bunch of hunters knew where he was?

"Is the Impala still there?" I asked, picking a direction and wandering.

"Yeah. All of our stuff is still here too. It's weird." he replied, letting out a short laugh. I sighed, well at least that was a relief.

"Good, because I'm in the middle of nowhere, and I'm _almost literally_ dying of thirst. Help." I said, putting a whine in my words for good measure. Dean shouted to Sam, and I heard him climbing into the driver's seat.

"You remember how to turn the GPS in your phone on?" he asked, starting up the car.

"Yeah, I remember." I said, rolling my eyes, "In fact, I'm pretty sure it's already on. But I'll double check." I added, and pulled the phone away from my ear. It was still on, I didn't turn it off anymore, just in case.

"Yeah. It's on. _Man_ it's hot out here. Holy _crap."_ I said, taking a moment to look around and wipe some sweat from my face. The temperature seemed to have sky-rocketed in the short time I had been here.

"It's _summer-time_ , Ace. In _Nevada."_ he snarked, and I rolled my eyes.

"All the more reason for you to _hurry up_ and get here. I don't feel like dying of heat-stroke today." I grumbled, and tripped on a lose rock, stumbling. It was unfortunately a possibility, considering how tired, hungry, and thirsty I already was. Glancing around again, I spotted a small bush growing up next to the road and staggered over to it, sitting down in the sparse shade it provided.

"I'm just going to wait by this bush." I said, sighing again. I was half-tempted to take a nap until they found me. Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea.

"We're not too far from you, Ace. We'll be there soon." Dean replied, his tone reassuring. I sprawled on my back, eyes clenched shut against the bright sky.

"Honk when you get close. And try not to run me over." I said, earning a chuckle from him.

"No promises." he joked, and I smirked.

"Yeah right." I murmured, yawning deeply. I was already falling asleep. I'd only been laying down for a few seconds, but exhaustion was creeping up on me. My phone slid from my grasp and my arms went limp. I could hear Dean trying to talk to me, but the phone was laying in the dirt, and I couldn't grab it. My limbs were like dead weights. He didn't sound happy, I was probably going to get a lecture or something for this.

As I drifted to sleep, I wondered for a moment why that dog wanted me to go see the old guy. And then I was out.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean scowled out the front windshield, squinting against the mixture of sun and dust from the road. It turned out they were farther from Ace than he'd initially thought, and for the last half-hour he'd been crawling back-roads, scouring the ditches looking for her. With every minute that passed he felt his anxiety rise, his hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. He caught Sam watching his hands from the corner of his eye and glanced at his brother.

"What?" he prompted, and Sam blinked, looking up at his face.

"Nothing. I was just...thinking." he replied, shaking his head slightly as he looked away, out the side window. Dean watched him for a moment before turning back to the road ahead.

"You've been doin' that a lot lately. What's buggin' you?" he said, a tactless attempt to get his brother to open up. It wasn't the first time he'd caught Sam staring off in the last few weeks. Something was stuck in his head, and Dean could tell it was eating at the kid.

There was a pause of silence as Sam deliberated. Dean let him have it, he knew Sam was probably just trying to decide if he was being serious, or setting him up for a joke. He hadn't quite decided that himself yet, he'd wait and see. Finally, Sam sighed quietly and shifted in his seat, half-turning toward him.

"Look...I get that you feel... _obligated,_ when it comes to Ace. And me. But...you need to let up a little." he said, speaking slowly as he chose his words carefully. Dean frowned, slightly confused. Serious conversation it was.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and Sam rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. He pursed his lips, squinting as he thought for a moment, then he let out a frustrated noise, like he'd given up.

"It's just, lately you've been acting weird with her. And, you're treating her like some kind of helpless _child_. I'm sure she's noticed it too. She just hasn't said anything about it yet. But eventually she's going to get tired of it." he explained, gesturing toward the window as he spoke. Dean scoffed, raising his eyebrow as he glanced at Sam. His brother gazed back, his face pulling with what looked like sympathy, and he splayed his hands in a gesture of uncertainty.

"Well _excuse me._ I'm just a little worried about her, that's all." he retorted, fists clenching the steering wheel as he glared out the windshield.

"Yeah, that's the other thing. Since when are you her _babysitter?_ I mean, you barely take your eyes off her anymore." Sam shot right back, and Dean scoffed, tilting his head as his eyebrows shot to his hairline.

"For good _reason_. Look what happened today!" he snapped, flinging a hand toward the windshield. Sam raised a hand toward him in a gesture that begged for calm, and he grit his teeth.

"Dean, you're not her _bodyguard_ , you're her _brother._ " Sam said, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"What's the difference?" he grumbled, too low for Sam to hear.

"You can't protect her from _everything_. And it's time for her to learn to fend for herself. We're not _always_ going to have her back, and we can't keep letting her rely on _us_ to get her out of every single situation. We've got to let her grow up." Sam went on, beginning to lecture. Dean pulled in a deliberately slow breath and threw his hand up to stop him.

"I know! Sam, I know. Okay? It's just...you weren't _there_ , man. You didn't see." he paused, thinking back to the scene in Ace's dream. Goosebumps traveled up his spine and he fought down a shiver.

"She was so... _tiny_ , and _afraid_. I...I _never_ want her to go through that again. _Ever,_ Sam." his voice was quiet as he spoke, and Sam looked down at his lap for a moment, his face sad.

"I get that, but...that's not up to us, Dean. If it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen. And...if you keep _babying_ her, she's not going to be strong enough to handle it alone. And... _I_ don't want her go through _that_." Sam finally said, his hands clenching into fists as he looked over at his brother. Dean sighed, a long, tired sound, and glanced at him. Then he nodded slowly, and Sam relaxed a bit, relieved.

"Yeah...you're right. Dammit. I _hate_ it, but...you're right." he relented, his voice quiet.

* * *

Sam turned his gaze to the window, feeling like a weight had lifted from his chest. It had been worrying him for weeks, and to finally have it out in the open felt good. Especially knowing that his brother understood, and agreed. He'd worried at first that it was jealousy, seeing Dean go out of his way for Ace. But he'd realized quickly that it was a different kind of feeling. A nagging thought that wouldn't let him sleep at night. He was a little disappointed with himself at how long it had taken him to recognize it for what it was. It was the same kind of worry he'd felt at Stanford, when he'd first started dating Jessica. The same feeling of insecurity that had plagued him for the first few weeks he'd been back with Dean. It was fear for the safety of his brother, and now of Ace. He'd been afraid that his brother would get himself killed trying to protect her from the trouble that _always_ seemed to find her. Or that he'd charge in and they'd _both_ wind up dead.

He grit his teeth, feeling his chest squeeze just at the thought of it. Closing his eyes for a moment, he pushed the idea from his mind, taking a discreet, calming breath. As he went back to searching the roadside, he caught a glimpse of something slumped beneath a scraggly bush and leaned toward his window, throwing his hand out to signal his brother.

"You see somethin?" Dean demanded, stomping the brake. The car jerked to a stop, sliding on the gravel road, and Sam climbed out, jogging back to the bush. It was her, but she was unconscious, and covered in dirt. He shouted to his brother over his shoulder and knelt beside her. Ace stirred as he brushed some hair away from her face, gazing up at him blearily.

"Sam?" she croaked, and he winced at the sound of her voice, dry and cracked.

"Yeah, it's me. C'mere." he replied, working his arm under her shoulders. He helped her sit up, hugging her for a moment, silently thanking whoever was listening that she was safe. She leaned against him, listless, and he started to gather her up in his arms, intending to carry her back to the car. Suddenly she pushed away from him.

"Where's my phone?" she said, glancing around and patting her pockets, "Dean's gonna be pissed at me." she added quietly, as if scolding herself, and Sam let out a chuckle. She glanced up at him, eyes still slightly unfocused.

"Ace, Dean's right there." he said, nodding his head toward the car, and their brother, who was trudging toward them with a bottle of water and a small rag. She stared for a moment as it sank in, and then she glanced around again. The sun was nearing the horizon, and she squinted at it before she looked back at him.

"What took you guys so long?" she asked, and tried to swallow, wincing.

"Okay, smart-ass." he murmured, a gentle reprimand, and smirked at her as Dean knelt on her other side, wetting the rag before offering the water bottle to her. She took it gratefully and gulped down a few mouthfuls while Dean draped the wet cloth over her head, pressing it to her forehead for a moment. She dropped the bottle away from her mouth, gasping for air, and pointed to them both in turn.

"You guys are _not_ gonna believe the day I've had." she said, and chuckled, still slightly out of breath. Sam exchanged glances with Dean, a smirk spreading across his face. His brother gave a short laugh, shaking his head at her.

"It was crazy, even for us." she went on, and started to climb to her feet, her hand pressed to Sam's shoulder for leverage. Her knees shook, nearly dropping her back onto the ground, and the boys grabbed for her, catching her before she fell.

"Easy!" Dean barked, and she groaned quietly, grimacing.

" _Crap!_ My knees _are_ bruised." she muttered, leaning into their grip. Sam wrapped his arm around her back and hoisted her off her feet.

"Got her?" Dean asked, letting go of her shoulder as they both stood. He nodded, and tilted his head toward the car.

"Get the door." he said, focusing on not stumbling in the loose rocks. Dean lead the way back to the Impala, opening the passenger side door and heading around to the trunk to dig out the first aide tin. As Sam let her down onto the car seat, Ace sighed heavily.

"Sorry guys. I didn't mean to disappear like that, and I know you guys were worried." she said quietly, looking up at Dean as he stopped next to Sam. They glanced at each other, and Sam gave her a small smile while Dean handed over the first aide tin.

"Don't worry about it. Shit happens." he said, and rounded the car, climbing into the driver's seat. Sam watched him go, feeling a tiny bit of pride for him. He could tell how hard it was for Dean not to hover.

Pulling a pair of surgical scissors from the box, he turned his attention back to Ace. She was fidgeting with her palms, picking at them and wincing, and he grabbed her hand. Then he frowned at her when she let out a hiss of air, flinching. The heels of her hands were slowly bleeding from cuts that she'd scraped the scabs from.

"Don't _do_ that. They'll get infected." he scolded, and let her hand go so he could cut her jeans away from her knees. He cleared the fabric away, revealing dirt clotted gashes and a deep bluish bruise across both of her knees. He grimaced in sympathy, and she sighed.

"This is gonna sting, okay?" he said, digging a bottle of peroxide from the box. She nodded and let herself fall back on the seat, dropping her arm over her eyes. Dean glanced down at her, then at Sam, raising his eyebrows at him. He recognized it as a silent request for information, 'how bad?' it said, and he quirked his lips in disappointment, letting his face drop, 'Pretty bad.' he said back. Dean nodded slightly, turning away and letting his head fall back, closing his eyes. He let his arm slip off the back of the seat and tousled their sister's hair gently, resting his hand on her forehead in a small gesture of comfort.

Sam splashed her knees with the peroxide and dragged a rag across them, earning a flinch and a whimper from Ace. He tried to work quickly, but it was hard to be gentle and fast at the same time. She jerked away from him instinctively, and he saw her clench her fists only to let out a small sound of pain and throw them open again.

"I know, Ace. I'm sorry." he said softly, gripping her leg firmly, but gently. She shook her head, lifting her arm and dragging the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Do what you gotta." was all she said, sniffling. Dean glanced down at her, his face pinching in sympathy, and Sam went back to work.

* * *

It took nearly a half hour, but he managed to clear the dirt from the wounds, and even pried a few small pebbles from beneath her skin. She sat up as he was taping gauze in place over the wounds, and he glanced up at her. Her eyes were red rimmed, and he could see tear tracks in the dirt caked to her face. The sight made him bite his lip, a twinge of remorse making him wince.

"I can do my hands. We should get moving." she said quietly, holding out a hand for a fresh rag and the bottle of peroxide. Sam gathered up the tin box and stood, brushing dust from his jeans.

"Scoot." he said, stepping into the car. She shuffled across the seat, allowing him to sit, and he pulled the door shut. Dean sat forward, keying the engine to life, and Sam wet the rag with the peroxide.

"Here," he said, holding it out for Ace to take, "Gently, okay?" he added, and she nodded. As she started in on the cuts to her palms, he closed up the tin and stowed it in the floorboards.

"So," he prompted, leaning back in the seat and propping his arm across the back, behind her head, "Tell us about this _crazy day_ you had." He waved his hand through the air for emphasis, and she glanced up at him, scowling slightly.

"You say that like you don't believe me." she grumbled, and he chuckled, mussing her hair.

"Well, that depends on just how _crazy_ it really is." he said, grinning down at her. Dean looked over at him, smirking, and Ace narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm with Sam. We've seen some weird stuff, what makes today so _special?"_ Dean said jokingly, and Ace turned on him, lips pursed and a frown starting to form.

"If you two are gonna be like _that_ about, maybe I _won't_ tell you." she retorted, and Dean chuckled, nudging her with his shoulder.

"Aw, c'mon. We're just teasing." he soothed, glancing down at her for a moment. Sam nodded and dropped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side in a one-armed hug.

"Seriously, Ace. What happened today?" he said softly, giving her a quick squeeze and letting her free again. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Then she leaned her back against his side.

"Well...it all started with that stupid _dog._ "


	6. Chapter 6

Water lapped quietly against wood as I wandered down the pier. The cool crisp air blew strands of hair across my cheeks. Far off, birds sang to each other. Everything was calm, which in my world seldom happens.

This was a dream, but it was my favorite dream. Based in one of the few good memories I had. Christmas break at the family cabin, on Sam Rayburn Lake. I could hear the others behind me, laughing and joking, but I couldn't bring myself to turn and look at them. Seeing their faces still hurt too much.

Maybe one day, eventually, I'd be strong enough for that. But for now, I was struggling just hearing them speak. I still felt oddly responsible for their deaths. Even though Sam and Dean told me time and again that there really wasn't anything I could have done, a part of me still felt like there was.

"Oh. This _is_ a nice place."

I jumped, stumbling a step and spun around. The Magus stood in the middle of the pier, a few feet away. He gazed around with an appreciative look, arms crossed behind his back. As I turned, he looked down at me and smiled.

" _You?_ What are _you_ doing here?" I stammered, looking him up and down, and then glancing around. The dream had shifted. We were alone, my family vanished. Even the birds had gone quiet. As I turned my gaze back to him he started toward me.

"I must admit to some degree of curiosity, my dear girl. Of you, of course. You see, not just _anyone_ would, or even _could_ do what you did. You have no idea the plethora of magical traps and enchantments that you simply... _waltzed_ right through, to get to me. Not to mention the dog likes you." he said, gesturing widely with one hand. He passed me, heading to the end of the pier and looking down into the water. I frowned, watching him for a moment, and then made my way to his side.

"You're quite unique." he added, glancing at me with a chuckle of amusement. I looked down at the water, unsure if I should be worried, or take it as a compliment. He reached into a pocket of his coat and produced a chunk of bread, breaking off small crumbles and tossing them into the water. It swirled as fish bobbed the surface, snatching them away, and I let out a soft sigh. He glanced at me again, a question in his look.

"I used to do this with my mom..." I said, and he nodded slowly.

"You mean, your foster mother?" he asked, and I startled, looking up at him. He smiled again, reaching out to tap the side of my head.

"You're like an open book, child." he commented, and turned away, tucking the bread back into his pocket.

"But I didn't come here to feed the fishes, or to read your life's story." he went on, and I rushed to catch up as he strode up the pier toward the shore. He dug a hand deep in his pocket, searching for something as he walked, and I watched him closely, apprehensive.

"Ah! There!" he said suddenly, and stopped. He dragged his arm from his pocket and held out his hand to me. A tiny, silver acorn sat in the center of his palm, the surface glowing faintly with tiny chains of runes that seemed to slide across each other in a ticking motion. I stared at it, then up at him, and his grin grew wider.

"Take it. It won't bite." he said cheerfully, and I felt my hands fist at my sides, twitching behind me slightly. A habit, from when I was small.

"What's it for?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

"You'll find out." he replied, and held it closer to me. I glanced at it, then back to his face, still unsure. He sighed, his hand closing as he turned it over and reached out with his other, taking a surprisingly gentle hold on my wrist.

"Look, I don't get out much, alright? So when someone as interesting as you've turned out to be comes to visit, I feel a certain reward is fitting. Think of it as a present, a thank you gift, if you will." he said, bringing my hand up and waving his over it slowly. As it passed away from me, the little acorn fell from his grasp and attached itself to the bracelet on my wrist, a few links down from my little silver wolf. I stared at it, waiting.

But nothing happened, and he released me. Then he turned, heading off the pier and onto the shore, toward the cabin. I followed, hesitant, and he looked over his shoulder at me.

"It occurs to me that there is quite a bit that you don't yet know about yourself." he said, climbing the stairs to the front door of the cabin and turning to face me. I stopped at the base of the stairs and frowned at him.

"What do you mean?" I demanded, glancing down at the acorn and back to him again. His smile widened into a grin, and he rested his hand on the door handle.

"Keep that close to you. You'll begin to understand. With time." he replied. My frown deepened, and I sighed harshly.

"Why can I never get a straight answer out of people?" I grumbled, and he chuckled. Then he turned the door handle, swinging the door inward. Beyond it was darkness, not a darkened room, but an infinite blackness with no depth.

"This is where we say goodbye, my girl. I'm sure we will never meet again. But if we do, you may call me Talcott." he said, bowing slightly and stepping into the doorway. I reached up, starting toward him. He hadn't even answered my questions.

"W...wait! How did you get here?!" I called, rushing up the stairs. He paused, glancing back at me, and pointed to the door-frame.

"Through the door, of course." he commented, grinning when I let out an exasperate groan.

"Behave yourself, Alex. And be careful." he added, giving me a small salute and a wink. Then he was gone.

I watched the door close on it's own, mind racing. How had he known my name? What did he mean, what could I possibly not know about myself?

"Gettin' real tired of this bull..." I muttered out loud, and opened the door. It led into the main room of the cabin, just as I remembered it. There was no sign of the darkness from moments ago. As I wandered inside, I went over the encounter in my head again.

"And what did he mean, open book?" I grumbled, and looked down, running my thumb over the tiny acorn. He'd been in my head, there was no telling what he'd learned about me. Maybe there was something I knew, but that I didn't remember. I had so many things buried, locked away in places so deep I didn't know where to look for them anymore. It was hard not to, with a life like mine.

I took the acorn between my fingers and watched it for a moment. The glowing rings ticked across it's surface, the rhythm nonsensical. It wasn't seconds, or heartbeats. And as I watched, the tempo shifted, speeding up for a handful of seconds and then slowing to almost a stop again.

"What _are_ you?" I murmured, squinting as I tried to make out the runes. If I could figure out what kind they were, I might be able to figure out their purpose. The light flared suddenly, and the rings spun in a blur. I gasped, dropping it and throwing my hands out to steady myself as my surroundings shifted. The cabin room morphed around me, reshaping, and I crouched. Everything folded and reformed, and stopped as suddenly as it began. The glow faded, and the rings slowed again. I frowned down at it for a moment, and it glinted.

"Awesome." I muttered, pushing to my feet and looking around.

The room was familiar, but seemed smaller than I remembered it. It finally hit me why, and the breath left me in a dizzying rush. I was standing in the family room, in my childhood home. The one we had run away from. After...

"Where's my little birdy?"

I stumbled, spinning toward the voice, my heart fluttering in panic. He was standing in the doorway, a smile on his face.

"There she is. How's my little songbird?" he said softly, crossing the room to me and scooping me into a hug. As he leaned back to look at me, his smile faltered.

"You okay sweetheart? You look like you seen a ghost." he murmured, cupping my cheek. I stared back, frozen, and tears spilled over my cheeks. I remembered this. I was small, very small, when it happened. But this was a real memory.

"I...I did. In the basement." I stuttered, and looked away from him, my eyes searching the wall for the familiar red door. He tilted his head at me, his smile softening.

"Aw, Ally. There's no such thing as ghosts, you know that. Right?" he said, and his arms tightened around me in a gesture of comfort. I looked up at him again, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"C'mon. It's time to go pick up Mommy from work." he said, and let me go, holding his hand out to me. I hesitated, my hand fisting in the hem of my shirt and glanced up to his face. His smile was soft, and genuine, and I felt my eyes sting with tears.

"What happened to you...?" I whispered, and my breath hitched.

"Where did _you_ go?" My sight blurred as tears spilled over my cheeks, and I clenched them shut, pressing the back of my hand over them. Everything shifted, and I curled in on myself, sobbing quietly. The floor fell out from under me, startling a gasp out of me, and I flung my arms out as I started to fall.


	7. Chapter 7

My eyes flew open, and I panted, scrambling to sit up.

"Ow! Hey! What the-? Ace?"

I struggled to adjust my vision to the sunlight filling the space, and flinched when I felt someone grip my leg. I threw a hand out, and it connected with skin with a loud slap.

"Sonofa-!" Dean spat, and I gasped, yanking my hand back.

"Sorry! Sorry, I...I didn't...can't see you!" I stammered, blinking hard and rubbing my eyes, my face screwed up in pain. Dean shifted, his hand closing over my elbow gently.

"You okay?" he asked, and I nodded jerkily, and then paused. Tears spilled over my cheeks, and I still had a pit in my chest. I sighed, and shook my head slowly.

"I...I was dreaming..." I said, and dropped my hand, squinting over at him. He gazed back, concerned, and took my face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over my cheek.

"Was it bad?" he asked quietly, glancing sideways as Sam sat up in the back seat, stretching. I looked down, fiddling with my bracelet. The tiny acorn shimmered at me.

"Not...not really." I said hesitantly, looking back up at him. He frowned, confused, and I took hold of his wrist, pulling his hand away from my face and holding it between mine. Then I sighed, and looked out the windshield.

"I was...well...it's kind of a long story." I said, sighing. Sam sat forward, leaning on the seat and looking down at me.

"We've got time." he said quietly. I glanced at him, then at Dean. Our oldest nodded at me encouragingly, his hand closing over one of mine and giving it a squeeze. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes. We hadn't told Sam every detail about the incident with the Nightmare. But he knew the basics. I'd been abused by my foster father, and he knew that's what the Nightmare had been using against me. He knew that when Dean had made it into my dream, he'd had to save me from the man that I remembered from childhood.

But neither one of them knew that it hadn't always been that way. And as I told them about my dream, and about what I'd suddenly remembered, their faces paled, taking on darkened expressions. I fell silent, staring at my lap, tears falling freely, and Dean shifted.

"C'mere." he said, his voice quiet and rough, and slipped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. Sam sat back, dragging his hand down his face with a ragged sigh. I turned, burying my face against my brother's chest, and he hugged me tightly.

"I miss him." I said quietly, and let out a shrewd laugh.

"As terrible as that sounds." I added, feeling my face twisting as the pit in my stomach throbbed.

"I get it, Ace." Dean said quietly, and rubbed my shoulder. Sam touched my back, and I peeked up at him.

"Can I see?" he asked, giving me a half smile and pointing to my wrist. I nodded, shifting to hold out my arm, and he took my bracelet off, studying the tiny acorn closely. His brow furrowed, and he turned it over a few times. Finally he sighed, eyebrows rising.

"I got nothing. I've never seen this before." he said, handing it back to me. I slipped it back in place, and slumped lower in the seat, leaning my head back against Dean's thigh. He reached out, starting up the car, and slid it into gear. I stared at the acorn as we pulled out onto the road, and took a deep, shaky breath.

"He wants me to remember something...but I don't know what..." I said quietly, glancing up as Sam leaned over the seat. He dropped his hand to my knee, giving it a squeeze.

"We'll figure it out, Ace. Don't worry." he said, his tone reassuring. I nodded, trying to smile. But my lips only twitched, and I looked at the ceiling. If everything I remembered was going to be this painful, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I was afraid of the things hidden away in the dark of my mind.

-End-


End file.
